


Who He Is

by bluerosebouquet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bi Dean, Dean Winchester Comes Out, Flagstaff, Fluff, Homophobia, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester is a bad parent, M/M, john winchester is a homophobe, sam is the best brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerosebouquet/pseuds/bluerosebouquet
Summary: Dean Winchester finally tells Sam about Flagstaff





	Who He Is

Dean and Sam staggered into the bunker after a grueling four day hunt. Supposed to be easy, as they always were, but what was supposed to be five demons turned out to be twenty, and they had only barely finished them off by themselves, which, let’s be honest, was a pretty rare occurrence. So they came back to the bunker tired, smelling like a shitty motel and the road, but instead of trudging off to their rooms for a show and bed, they both dropped their bags in chairs and made for their usual spots at the table, Dean pouring a glass of whiskey while Sam turned on the record player. Led Zeppelin II. Excellent.

“So are you gonna spill or am I going to have to ask?”

“What do you mean?” Dean said, collapsing at the table, pushing a glass of whiskey towards Sam.

“What that demon said.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. There were about ten billion negatives to all the doors of hell opening at once, one of which was that all the demons that Dean had been trapped down there with knew him, and, unfortunately, knew him really, really well.

“Ah, it was a load of crap, you know how those sons of bitches lie.”

But Sam was clearly not having it.

“Didn’t seem like crap to me. He said ‘John Winchester hated you long before he went to hell.’ Doesn’t seem like crap to me.”

Dean still saw the black eyes staring up at him, the panic he felt when he realized what it was saying, what it could tell Sam about him. The shame rose like bile in his throat and he stuck Ruby’s knife in it’s neck before it could elaborate, but it’s laughter and his fear lingered all the way home.

“They were trying to rile me up, I-”

“Come on man, you can be honest with me. What are you gonna tell me that’ll surprise me?”

Dean laughed a little, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Probably a lot.”

“Then spill. I’m not here to judge, Dean. You’re talking to the guy who has a longer list of mistakes than most people have of movies they’ve watched.”

So this was really happening? Dean was finally having the conversation with Sam that always made his stomach twist in anxiety and doubt. How far did unconditional love really go, he found out John’s limits years ago, what about Sam’s?

  
““You don’t know a lot of things about dad and me.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean paused, sucking in a breath, trying to find a little bit of courage, to tell Sam what had really happened to him when he wasn’t around.

“You know Flagstaff?”

Sam looked a little guilty.

“Yeah Dean, I know, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t just go out to a bar the night you ran away. I went out to meet this guy I knew.”

Sam looked confused. Dean didn’t blame him.

“We had passed through there once when I was sixteen, maybe seventeen. Dad had put us both in school while he went out to hunt...a striga I think it was. And I met this dude. Weirdo, like me. His name was Andy.

Dean smiled, thinking of himself in his oversized leather jacket and his arrogant attitude, the only way to make sure that no one really talked to him. But Andy had come up to him anyway, talked to him anyway. 

“And we just...got along I guess. I hated it when we had to leave. Probably the only time I pitched more of a fit than you did. I told Andy I’d look him up if we ever swung back through. He said he’d like that. So when we came back when dad wanted to hunt a loner vamp in the next county, when I was twenty-one. Dad put you in the local high school and left me in charge. And I looked Andy up, and he was still in town. So, one night, I stuck you in front of your homework and went out to see him. And when I came back, you were gone.”

Sam still looked confused, albeit a little sad and still a little guilty.

“What does this have to do with Dad?”

“Because Andy was helping me look for you. I was pretty much hysterical. Not only for you but for what Dad would say when he got back. So Andy and I spent a whole week looking for you, and, uh, Dad found us.”

“Found you? Found you what?”

“Come on man.”

Sam searched his face, and for the first time in his whole life, he was honest about that part of himself. He almost kind of expected Sam’s face to contort, showing the same disgust and hatred that John had shown all those years ago.

“Oh.”

“Dad almost killed me. Let him go, thank God. But you know how you asked why my face was so messed up when you got back?”

“Dad hit you?”

“He almost tore me apart.”

Dean remembered it so well,even nearly twenty years later. How John had come in the door and had seen him and Andy together. How he had picked Andy up by the collar and thrown him out the door.

“Don’t even let me see you again.”

Andy had looked back at Dean, almost like he wanted to fight, but Dean had shaken his head.

He and Sam sat in silence for a while, taking in the truths right in front of them.

“That wasn’t the first time was it?,” Sam asked after a while.

“No, but it was almost the worst.”

“Almost?”

“The night you left for Stanford.”

The color drained out of Sam’s face.

“What did he do to you?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“No, I don’t. But I need to.”

“He told me if I ever mentioned you again that I’d wish I was dead. I told him if you could have a normal life, why couldn’t I? And he did make me wish I was dead. Had to go to the ER and tell them it was a bar fight. Four ribs, three fingers, nose, punctured lung, ruptured spleen, and concussion. Police tried to find the guys that did it. Never found em, obviously.”

Sam stared at him.

“Dad did all that to you?”

Dean thought about how John had lifted him up by the throat and had said, with murder in his eyes, “you’ll never leave me,” how he had kept Dean on the shortest possible leash for years afterward, desperately afraid that he would leave too. And Dean had thought about it many times. He had thought about stealing a car and just hauling ass as far away from the disappointment, from the alcohol-fueled rages, from the white-knuckled hands on the back of his collar when he so much as looked at another man, and just starting over. But he had never been as ballsy as Sam like that and, even in the moments where he hated his father, he couldn’t bring himself to leave him.

“And you stayed?” asked Sam, like he was reading Dean’s mind.

“Yeah, I mean, it was Dad.”

“You didn’t deserve that, Dean.”

Sam looked at him with such conviction that it made Dean’s throat constrict.

“I almost left once. Hauled ass to Bobby’s to lay low after he tore into me when a ghoul almost got us both killed.“

He remembered Bobby taking him in without a word, even though he showed up at his doorstep at 2am, wobbly from driving all the way from Vermont straight. Bobby had fed him, cleaned up his bruises and cuts, and had put him to bed. He slept for three days straight, and when he woke up, John was at the door. He had begged Dean to come back, told him he needed him, and even with Bobby next to him, a hand on his shoulder, he couldn’t leave him.

“But I don’t know. He showed up to Bobby’s and I went with him. You probably think that’s stupid but, I just didn’t want to lose him too. And if he wanted me, I should probably jump at it, because, you know, there were plenty of times he didn’t.”

They sat in silence again. Dean not so subtly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

“You ever look up Andy?”

Dean’s heart twisted at the sound of his name.

“Rode back through Flagstaff a while back with Cas. Just to see how he was doing. He’s married now, to some lawyer. He owns a bakery. They have two daughters. He seems really happy.”

“That’s good,” Sam paused for a second,” Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Telling me. And you know I’ve always got your back, no matter what.”

Dean loved Sam something fierce right then and he pitched forward, and wrapped Sam in the kind of bear hug he hadn’t given him since he was a teenager. It sort of felt like he had taken a sponge and washed the dirt and grime off of the Impala’s windshield, like he was able to see for the first time. And it felt, really really good.

Just as they broke apart, the Bunker door creaked open. Cas came down the stairs, holding two bags of food from Dean’s favorite shitty diner. Dean unashamedly lit up at the sight of him. He felt lighter than he had in years, like someone had taken a fifty pound weight off his chest.

“Hey Cas.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“No,” said Dean, as Sam clapped him on the shoulder, “You remember the pie?”

“Dean, when have I ever forgotten your pie?” Cas deadpanned.

Dean laughed, and as Cas set down the food on the table, Dean reached out and hugged him too. He held Cas with a freedom that he had never known and when he pulled away, Cas smiled at him softly, and Dean felt like he might be able to live for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is very sad and has been sitting half written on my phone for months but anyway Dean is bi and I love him very much. Also tones of Destiel because I am nothing if not a sack of garbage for my idiots in love.  
Edit: shoutout to Kelly for pointing out a couple of name changes!!! I super appreciate it!!!!


End file.
